


cause you were mine for the summer

by reinacadeea



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, The Town of Nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 12:49:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4305720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinacadeea/pseuds/reinacadeea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robert and Aaron go on holiday</p>
            </blockquote>





	cause you were mine for the summer

**Author's Note:**

> I promised I would write while on vacation. This is the result. Hope you enjoy.

Their plane is at six in the morning. Andy drives them up since he goes to sleep dead early anyway. Robert is asleep in the back, arms crossed and head bent in an awkward angle while Aaron is sat making idle small talk about Butler's up front.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Andy asks cautiously, looking in the rearview mirror to make sure Robert is still dead to the world.

"I'll get back to you in seven days," Aaron says and Andy tries an optimistic smile, only there for his sake.

Robert follows pliantly through check-in, half asleep on his feet and barely comments when Aaron puts an americano into his hand from Costa.

He hasn't slept at all, having spent most of the night fretting while packing and unpacking several items of clothes. Will he need it? Won't he? He was even tempted to just bring his passport and his wallet. In the end, he hadn't. It doesn't seem all that practical to spend the first day looking for a toothbrush.

Robert doesn't communicate anything but several grunts most of the morning, sleeping the moment he's stationary enough to drop off. Aaron doesn't mind, leading him around by the small of his back. He's got his headphones in, listening to Drake which is entirely befitting the early hour, and tangles his ankle around Robert's when they are in the air.

Nice is sweltering when they arrive, departing the plane outside and having to walk inside to collect their luggage.

"Heatwave, you say?" Robert says amusedly and gives Aaron's black hoodie a sceptical look.

Aaron burrows deeper into it, zipping it up, and follows Robert's snickering face inside the airport. The luggage claim is filled with people in straw hats and short shorts while ladies have all found their fanciest Primark dresses for the special occasion. Aaron feels completely out of place with his long trousers and dark colours.

"What now, tourguide?" Robert says when they gone by the loo.

"I've not actually been to this part of France before," Aaron says. "Oscar is picking us up."

Oscar meets them outside, waving a French flag and a sign with Livesy on it. He pulls Aaron into a tight hug and shakes Robert's hand well before he's even greeted them. Aaron can tell Robert is surprised, not expecting the larger than life appearance of a tanned middle-aged American with a Diesel print shirt and khakis.

"You look gloomier than ever, Aaron," Oscar says. "We'll have the sun brightening your mood any day now. It will happen one day."

"Yeah, don't count on it," Robert comments with a smile. "I'm pretty sure it's a family thing."

Oscar grins.

He drives them through an insane amount of maze-like roads on a mountainside that is more settlement than rocks. But on their right sits the Mediterranean, more azure blue than Aaron remembers. A pair of cruisers lies anchored for the day, huge compared to the tiny sailboats littering the water, though Aaron spots a pair of yachts belonging to infinitely rich people and their endlessly luxurious lifestyle.

He gives Robert a brief look in the backseat and sees his eyes glittering greedily. A shiver goes through him and tries to swallow the disappointment.

Oscar drops them off at a gated entrance, muttering something about work and useless souschefs. Aaron lets him go easily, knowing he'll be back for beers when he's got the time.

Aaron types in the passcode Oscar's mate emailed him and the gate opens, revealing a hotel-like building that supposedly holds their little rented apartment. They find it quickly enough once Robert's done huffing over the heat.

"I need a pool and a pint," he says and follows Aaron into the apartment. They both stop abruptly and takes in the small kitchen, smaller bathroom and even tinier bedroom.

Turns out Oscar's mate may have exaggerated the size a bit. Aaron still find it loads better than some of the shite motels he's slept in while on the run. He gives Robert a cautious look, ready for the tantrum.

It never comes.

Instead, Robert pulls off his shirt and shakes off his trousers, sitting almost bare except for his pants on the sofa. He spreads his legs and sighs happily. "Suppose there is no escaping each other," he says and winks.

Aaron rolls his eyes and concedes to pulling off his hoodie. He's got a shirt on underneath. While he hops under the shower, Robert goes in search of the pool, which he excitedly explains is just upstairs and a bit bigger than he had expected.

They have reached Nice at the time of day where it is hottest, the sun bearing down with no respite and when you move, a sheen of sweat automatically appears on your forehead. Robert, however, could never let such a silly thing as heat stop his raging libido and pushes Aaron onto the tiny bed, removing the towel he had wrapped around his waist when he had exited the shower.

Robert's lips tastes of chlorine when he pushes his tongue into Aaron's mouth and his wet hair tickles his forehead just a bit. Aaron grips Robert's shoulderblades and they lazily move against each other, mindful of the heat, and just enjoying this moment of peace since Aaron haltingly suggested going on holiday two weeks earlier. Just the two of them with no outside interference.

"We should find a supermarket," Robert says when they laze about naked and sated from their orgasms. "Or you could come upstairs with me to the pool. You could rub my back?"

Aaron snorts, but turns his back to Robert and he hears his disappointed sigh.

"Aaron," Robert says, dragging out his name and pushes himself closer to his back. "No one is going to care."

"I care," Aaron says, forcing the words out of his mouth. "I'll come up with you... But I won't..."

Robert presses soft kisses to the small fine hairs on his nape. "I like you just as fine with your top on anyway."

Aaron marvels at the difference between angry Robert and the Robert only he gets to see - the man who gives Aaron space to work through his insecurities. At least that's what happens when they are on good terms. When they fight, it's another matter entirely and not always meant in the harmful way Robert says them. It's one of those things they're working on - communicating instead of misunderstanding deliberately.

He's read about people with heart transplants and such, who spends the rest of their lives with visible scars on their body. His scars are different and done deliberately to cause harm, not save his life. He can't wear them with pride or even blame them on surgery. An unfortunate yachting accident can't even explain how they zigzag on his tummy.

But he dutifully puts on shorts and an old white shirt from France from his months tracking through the wine country and watches Robert slather a generous amount of sunscreen all over his limps.

"You wouldn't like me when I'm sunburnt," he says with a smile.

Aaron's pretty sure he's seen all of Robert's worst sides and decides not to comment.

When they finally make it to the pool, Aaron finds a spot in the shade with a cool can of beer and decides to make the best of their getaway. They are in no hurry and it's just the two of them. It's nice, he decides, being cut off from everyone telling them they are bad for each other. Aaron's got a list, thanks very much, with reasons why Robert Sugden is a bad idea. He's still here.

Robert has brought his archaic Nintendo DS and they spend the rest of the sunlight beating each other in Mario Cart.

They've not got a lot of money between them and that mostly stems from the scrapyard, so they decide quickly to eat out every other night and instead deciding to live of off cheap made-at-home sarnies.

"You're not disappointed?" Aaron asks when they walk home on a secluded bit of road a little after midnight. They've got their hands joined, swinging between them, and so completely relaxed.

Robert gives him a confused look.

"I know it's not what you're used to," Aaron presses out between his lips.

"It's hard," Robert says after a moment of silence. "It's the truth whether you want to hear it or not."

Aaron drops his hand, but Robert grips his shirt instead, pulling him back into his embrace.

"But," Robert says and emphasises every syllable. "I can't think of a place I'd rather be than right here right now... with you."

They pull together in a kiss, lips pressing against each other.

"Fine then," Aaron says and pulls Robert's arm over his shoulder and settling into his side. "I'll have to accept it, won't I?"

Robert laughs heartily and pulls him closer. "You can do what you like, Aaron. As long as it's with me."

"What? Like my own personal ball and chain?" Aaron says, trying for a bit of humour. "I can't have a moment for myself anymore?"

"Well, you can visit your friends and such," Robert says mock seriously.

"Thanks," Aaron says sarcastically.

The bed is a bit rocky and is built of two different madrases, leaving them lying sort of elevated at two different heights. Robert's feet goes over the edge and Aaron keeps dunking his head onto the headboard. He still sleeps better with Robert beside him than he would otherwise.

The next two days are spent in a relaxed atmosphere, both completely unwilling to stress about anything more than what to have for tea. Their lovemaking is slow and sensual because of the heat outside. It still leaves them both breathless and satisfied.

Aaron is not much for wine, but he can freely admit that the glittering azure blue ocean calls for it when they go out their third night. The temperature has risen just a bit and he sweats underneath his bought-for-England shirts. He still can't get himself to take them off in public. Robert doesn't tan great and has gone through two shades of red already, but Aaron spent most of the night before running his fingers along his tanline, mesmerised by how calm Robert is without outside influence.

"Your French is better than I thought it would be," Robert remarks after seeing him order their food.

"I did live here," Aaron says. "I was bound to pick something up."

Robert leans back in his chair with an interested gleam in his eyes. "You've never struck me as the most scholarly type, though, being a Dingle and all."

"After the first time six times not knowing the difference between left or right, even the most unschooled person picks up a bit," Aaron says. "I met Oscar fairly early on and he taught me loads."

"What does he do?"

Aaron thinks of the larger than life American he met on chance years ago. Oscar kept him working when he had nothing and spent many patient mornings teaching him simple words and phrases. "He works as a waiter. He spent most of his youth training at Michelin restaurants in Scandinavia and such. He's lived in France the last I think fifteen years," he says.

"Interesting bloke," Robert says with raised eyebrows.

"Eccentric is the word," Aaron says and Robert snorts in amusement. "He's a mate though. Got us all this for practically free."

Robert runs the palm of his hand over Aaron's arm with a fond look in his eyes. "I'll remember to thank him then."

He pretends he's a bit of a foodie but Aaron knows better. Robert enjoys a steak just as much as the next man and thinks pizza is a gourmet meal deserving Michelin stars. They still cringe at the €70 bill even though they bought house wine.

"I met someone like Oscar once," Robert reminisces when they find a spot on the promenade overlooking the water. They sit huddled together, shoulders and knees touching. "Her name was Ethel and she was a lady from Nicaragua."

"You been to South America?" Aaron asks surprised.

"Only to Mexico and we didn't go any further than the Four Seasons," Robert says and Chrissie hangs in the air unspoken. "No Ethel had been living in Vancouver sixteen or so years. Brilliant woman. Taught me every trick of the business trade."

Aaron thinks he almost looks happy at the mere thought of her, like she's someone he treasures in his heart, someone like Victoria. Aaron forgets that Robert spent ten years away from the village with little to no contact with anyone. He must have known people and discovered things about the world that Aaron will never find the courage for.

"I lived in her basement for about six months," Robert continues. "I'll never look at TexMex quite the same way again."

"Have you ever thought about going back?" Aaron asks tentatively.

Robert shakes his head no and grips Aaron's hand, moving it to his knee. "I found her dead one morning in her bed. The doctors said it was a stroke, that it was painless and swift... Didn't seem like the same city anymore after that."

Aaron tangles their fingers together.

He wakes the next morning to Robert peppering kisses onto his scars. He grips blonde hair in his fist and shivers, feeling Robert's wandering fingers touching the rim of his hole and gently pressing inside. He feels loose and pliant from their lovemaking the night before and doesn't complain about the early wake-up.

"You're sexy," Robert whispers into his tummy and curls a finger just right.

Aaron groans and feels Robert using his free hand to keep his hips down.

"You know that I find you sexy no matter what, right?"

The question doesn't really register at first, not while he's too busy seeing toe-curling stars.

"Every time I see you, even if it's only been hours..." Robert continues and removes his fingers from Aaron's arse and pushes his legs out of the way. "Look at what you do to me." He takes Aaron's hand and fists it around his stiff cock, before pushing inside in one long stroke that has Aaron squirming and gasping for breath.

"Every time?" Aaron asks uncertainly between groans.

Robert playfully rubs their noses together. "Every single bloody time."

It's too hot really to have sex, but they still manage to do it several times a day. Sometimes, it's hurried handjobs, or a lazy BJ before bed. But it always means something - that they are here together, that they still want each other's bodies as much as ever and that this trip is about honesty and recovery.

Aaron doesn't really understand why Robert spent the last three nights giving him compliments upon compliments until he trips off his shirt at the pool and lies on his stomach on the pool chair. He spots Robert beaming from the pool and playfully flips him off. Robert catches it in the air and pretends to treasure it over his heart.

Aaron doesn't blush. He really doesn't.

Robert buys them both Banana Splits on the beach, the full moon out and casting a clear light into the water and over the ridiculously large yachts.

"Did I pass your test?" Aaron asks.

Robert grins. "Maybe I just like to give you compliments."

Aaron can't deny that. Robert has a way of making him feel like the most treasured thing in the world. Half of it is airy talks, nothing worth noting, but the other half... that's true enough.

It takes five days for Oscar to make his way back to their little apartment in Villefranche, bringing along McDonalds breakfast, banging on the door at 7.30 in the morning. Robert stands up to answer the door with a snarl curling on his lips while Aaron watches him being pulled into an awkward hug.

"Rob, was it? Great to see you again! How are you?" Oscar says, as always a barrage of questions that no one should answer at shite o'clock in the morning. He's still halfway in his waiter uniform, shirt-sleeves rolled up over his elbows and bare feet stuck into a pair of flip flops. He's quite the vision.

"Yeah, good," Robert answers awkwardly, trying to cover the fact that he's only got on a sheet that's possibly a bit see-through. Aaron enjoys the view anyhow.

"Come inside, you big American," Aaron says and sits up in the creaky bed.

"You grumpy asshole," Oscar says excitedly. "I haven't slept. Some Texan oil rancher kept the bar going the entire night."

"A time-honoured tradition must be upheld then," Aaron says and points at the greasy bag Oscar is carrying.

Oscar grins and they sit on the breezy terrace. "The hotel management wants me to stay on full time. And become a sous. But I told them, you see, that I didn't train at the best restaurants in Europe to make timetables for younger peeps who goes to fancy bartender schools in Malaga or God forbid Sunny Beach."

Robert snickers in amusement. "I know the feeling."

"See? Thank you," Oscar says and bites into his cheeseburger, humming around it in pleasure. "Now where did Aaron pick you up? You don't seem like his typical type."

"Oscar," Aaron says embarrassed.

"It's all right," Robert says. "We are from the same village."

"Yorkshire, amirite?" Oscar says.

"And if his type is handsome, funny..."

"A bit of a git," Aaron comments.

"And completely unattainable, then yes, I'm exactly his type," Robert finishes.

Oscar burst out in deep laughter, probably waking the two old ladies next door. "Got it in one! But you're here, so I guess you weren't that unattainable."

"Suppose not," Robert says stilted and a looks of realisation crosses his features, like he hadn't really thought about it like that.

"Well, I've got a surprise for you tonight," Oscar says. "The chefs are finalising their autumn menu and I got you two seats for free. You only have to pay for drinks and I'll serve you, so I won't accept a tip."

"No, that's too much," Aaron says and Oscar holds his hand up.

"I won't hear it," he says. "Think of it as a gift for me too. I won't have to listen to pompous assholes the entire night."

"I'll chuck Robert at the door, then," Aaron comments and Robert actually has the gall to look offended. "If you're really sure?"

Oscar nods. "I'm very sure."

There are certain things that Aaron is sure Robert misses. Suppose you've gotten used to the finer things of life and then spent six plus months trying to keep it. Just because Aaron doesn't get why it's a better lifestyle, it doesn't mean he won't try to understand that it's something Robert struggles with.

Instead of complaining about Robert dragging him to a men's shop, he keeps mum and allows Robert to find him a decent shirt to wear. It's even half price, so he doesn't find anything wrong with letting Robert buy it for him. Especially not when he tries to grope him in the fitting room. They giggle like awkward teenagers and Aaron has to admit that he's missed Robert's patterned shirts.

According to the Wi-Fi, France is going through one of its hottest periods in the last sixty years and with barely no wind, they spend most of the walk to Oscar's hotel sweating like dogs. But the experience is something Aaron won't ever forget.

There is a certain beauty to France that he longs for in the Dales. He misses the winestocks, the certainty of the French youth appearing on the street the moment it's a bit hot and even the people - even though they're a bit stuck-up and egotistical. The hotel has a patio overlooking the water and Oscar makes sure they are in need of naught. They eat late and watch the full moon casts its light into the water.

"Is this how you lived while you were on the run?" Robert asks and takes a sip of a glass that's unnecessarily huge. He makes it look natural though with the way he tasted and sipped at it like a proper person of leisure.

"Uh no," Aaron answers. "First job Oscar got me, I cleaned toilets."

"Right up your standards," Robert teases.

"Finally made my way up to driving rich people to the airport at ridiculous moments at night. Decent job though," Aaron says. "People pays plenty when they think they're suffering with you, getting up that early."

"Well, normal people don't go to sleep at three in the morning," Robert says and it's weird having someone be so attuned to his nocturnal habits.

Before Aaron can do something mushy like profess his love, he takes another bite of his dessert, chewing the fresh berries.

Oscar begs off early from work and gathers a pair of chefs and waiters. They track down to the local Irish pub and drink most of the night away, playing darts and card games and generally having a good time.

He gets a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he looks at Robert and thinks, this is it. This could work. He forgets sometimes that Robert is always happy when it's just the two of them, that with no one else around they slip into old habits - they banter easily and talk plainly. Nice is fantastic. It's Robert just as he loves him best.

But it's a dream, an alternate universe.

"Stop thinking," Robert whispers into his ear. They've all gone to the beach promenade with beer cans and crisps ‘borrowed’ from the vast stores of Oscar's hotel.

Aaron pushes him backwards onto the sand and curls around him, bringing their faces together and ignoring the hoots from the others. Robert responds hungrily, curling his hand into the nape of Aaron's neck and the other onto his arse.

"I love you," Robert tells him between breaths and open-mouthed kisses that's got their tongues tangling together.

"Say it again," Aaron pleads and presses his hand over Robert's thundering heart.

Robert repeats the statement again and again and Aaron lets the euphoria eat into his heart, consume it. This he can have. This he can treasure when things gets rough and he forgets why he loves Robert. He can have this when he's lonely and his mum pities him and says 'I told you so' again and he wants to rip her a new one.

Robert rolls them around, one knee between Aaron's legs, and they rub together, not caring about their drunk audience.

Suddenly, things get wet and they both yelp and spring apart surprised. Aaron sees two of the chefs with guilty expressions on their faces and can't help but grin.

"Go home," Oscar says with a spark in his eyes when they've finished laughing. "Have that sex."

Aaron can feel himself blush, but Robert just curls an arm around his shoulder before planting a wet kiss on his cheek. They help each other stand up and drunkenly make their way back to their tiny holiday abode, drunk on too much alcohol and each other. They stumble over steps and into hedges, leaving them both with scratches on their hands and knees. Aaron can’t for the life of him remember a time he’s been this relaxed and happy. 

He pushes Robert up against a wall, the railroad behind it, and falls to his knees, hungrily pulling out Robert’s cock. He can feel the muscles in Robert’s thighs trembling as he swallows him down, enjoying Robert’s groans of pleasure. 

“Keep going,” he urges and Aaron does until he spills into his throat. Robert pulls him up and they snog languidly. “Let’s go back.” 

Robert rides him long and hard when they get back to the apartment and Aaron can’t keep track of any thoughts but the most important one – that Robert keeps going. When his thighs tremble too much, Aaron pulls him down under him and they do it face-to-face, slowing down their pace until they come together, chasing their orgasms together, drawing them out almost painfully. They breathe heavily, spent and happy, closer than they have ever been. 

“This is life,” Robert mumbles and promptly falls asleep, Aaron still buried inside him. 

Maybe it’s the intensity or the sheer amount of sweat created between them, but at that moment Aaron’s sober. He pulls out slowly, seeing Robert wince slightly, only now realising they hadn’t worn a condom. He pulls off Robert, pulling a sheet over his prone body. He kicks out slightly in his sleep and Aaron can’t help sighing fondly. He finds a used t-shirt and wipes them both mostly clean, before falling into bed beside Robert. It still takes him too long to fall asleep. 

“You keep staring at me,” Robert says, groaning over his glass of Cola on the terrace the next morning.

“Sorry,” Aaron mumbles. 

“What? Tell me if I did something wrong.” 

“What makes you think you did something?”

Robert gives him a squinty look. “It’s that look on your face.” 

Aaron sighs. “We have to talk about something.”

“Sounds serious,” Robert says, frowning.

“Yeah,” Aaron says. “Yeah, it’s just… we didn’t use a condom last night.”

“Really?” Robert says surprised. “How drunk were we?”

“Daft drunk, mate. Waking the neighbours drunk.”

Robert hmms, but doesn’t look too concerned. 

“Robert!” Aaron says annoyed and gives him a pointed look. “I’m not a shrill queen or anything…”

“Only sometimes,” Robert comments. “No, not funny?”

Aaron rolls his eyes. 

“Aaron, the only other person I’ve had sex with is… uh, well, Chrissie, and she’s like allergic to the pill or something with hormones, so we only ever had sex with condoms,” Robert tells him seriously. “You can trust me.”

And therein lies the problem. Can he trust him? Aaron knows Robert, knows the only reason Robert went searching for sex away from Chrissie was to relieve some weird sort of boredom. How’s he to know what Robert got up to when he wasn’t putting out? 

“Say something,” Robert pleads and he’s got a worried look on his face. “Did you…. while we weren’t… Have you had sex with someone else?”

“No,” Aaron says offended. 

Robert looks relieved. “Good. My head would have exploded otherwise.”

Aaron snorts. “You’re a hypocrite, you know.”

“Yeah,” Robert sighs. 

Oscar drives them to the airport that night and Aaron listens to him and Robert chatting amicably. They get on like he thought they would once they got to know each other. Oscar has always been a good mate and Aaron presses his hand warmly when before they go through security. 

“Don’t forget me, sourpuss,” Oscar says, looking fond.

“Never,” Aaron promises. “Give us a call if you’re around Yorkshire.”

“Yeah, I should,” Oscar says. “I need to meet the famous Marlon.”

Robert snorts. 

This time it’s him who guides a sleepy Aaron through the airport and lets him sleep on his shoulder on the plane. At least he tells Aaron that when they land. 

“You were drooling,” he remarks. 

Andy waits for them outside, giving them both a suspicious look. “All right?” 

Aaron takes a good look at Robert. “Yep.”

 

Finish  
(9-7-2015)

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr as reinacadeea as well. leave a comment here and there and i will deeply appreciate it. hugs


End file.
